


Rationally So

by newfangled



Category: Pride and Prejudice (1995), Pride and Prejudice (2005), Pride and Prejudice - Jane Austen
Genre: Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, F/M
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-08-22
Updated: 2020-09-06
Packaged: 2021-03-06 18:41:15
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 2,026
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26053636
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/newfangled/pseuds/newfangled
Summary: Lizzie had just wanted to get her novel published, not completely upend the love lives of herself and others.
Relationships: Elizabeth Bennet/Fitzwilliam Darcy, Jane Bennet/Charles Bingley
Comments: 2
Kudos: 31





	1. Chapter 1

It was a muggy Thursday afternoon when Elizabeth Bennet's patience finally snapped.

She slowly trudged towards the corner coffee shop, the weight of her overstuffed satchel slowing her more naturally swift pace. The strap dug harshly into her shoulder, but she was too incensed by the letter grasped securely in her left hand to even care.

Tendrils of hair escaped the loose braid she commonly sported and clung annoyingly to her damp skin. 

“Wretched humidity to match this wretched post,” she thought to herself while pushing her full weight against the heavy, wooden door that marked her destination.

A blast of cold air welcomed her as she ambled into the familiar shop, The Busy Bean. Although far less trendy, and thus far less popular, than the more modernized chain shop that resided merely one block further up the road, Lizzie was too fond and loyal to the owners (the Lucas Family) to ever seek sustenance elsewhere.

Many had described the old shop as more weathered than remarkable, but Lizzie had always appreciated its understated style: exposed brick walls, repurposed antique furniture and decorative accents that suggested equal parts thrift and genuine taste.

The Busy Bean did not rely on flashy flourishes to distinguish itself, which truthfully, suited Lizzie’s preferences just fine. Plus, the coffee was damn good.

With a quick nod to the younger Ms. Maria Lucas currently manning the counter, Lizzie bee-lined towards a cluster of round tabletops situated near the right side of the shop and collapsed into a vacant chair opposite her noticeably unruffled companion. 

“Rejection number twenty-three!” Lizzie announced with a cynical grin, roughly waving the cream-colored paper still grasped in her hand. “And this one’s barely four sentences long.”

She crumpled the once pristine letterhead and tossed it unceremoniously at her sister’s serene form.

“I got you an iced latte,” Jane responded with an amused smile. “Considering the weather and what I inferred about your mood, I didn’t think anything too hot would be welcomed.”

“Thank you,” Lizzie sighed. She used her straw to swirl the contents of her cup, watching the milk and espresso blend before savoring a sip. “And thank you for meeting me during your break.”

“I take it this latest rejection is the reason for our impromptu meeting?” Jane asked. She removed the crushed paper from its landing spot in her lap and smoothed it out on the table top. She scanned the content quickly. “I’m surprised they would go through the trouble of sending a physical letter, especially one so short. Is email passé?”

“I’m sure they took great pleasure in sending a more concrete receipt of my failure,” Lizzie groaned. She took another sip of her beverage and let its coolness soothe both her temperature and mood. 

“Stop being dramatic,” Jane scolded in her mild way. “For someone who chose to write a novel for the quote, unquote ‘experience and fun of it,’ you are putting far too much stock in what these publishers think. Plus, you knew getting it published as a novice and without an agent would be hard, if not impossible.”

“Yeah, but that’s the thing, I’ve been submitting to publishers that supposedly don’t even care about agents,” Lizzie sighed. “And I know I wrote it for fun, but then it became something more substantial to me. I didn’t think much of those first few rejections, you know? I just had faith that someone would care and value it.”

Jane chuckled lightly in response. “Plenty of people care and value it, Lizzie. For instance, your very charming and amazingly supportive friend group.”

“You mean my charming, amazingly supportive and completely _bias_ friend group,” Lizzie snorted. “I know you’re not bullshitting me when you say you like it,” Lizzie began, ignoring Jane’s raised eyebrows at her slight profanity, “but given that you all are portrayed as total badasses in the thing, it was unlikely you would find fault.”

“I do quite enjoy my own characterization,” Jane acquiesced. “But, Betsy also read it and she liked it very much.”

“I daresay, Betsy is also the sweetest person on the planet, after you, of course. So there was absolutely zero chance that she would be anything except complimentary.”

“That excerpt you posted online also got a lot of kudos,” Jane added.

“Because I pandered to the Harry Potter fandom and changed everyone’s names accordingly,” Lizzie countered with an eye roll.

She immediately cringed at her own negativity. Truthfully, Lizzie wasn’t trying to be so resolutely pessimistic. 

Defeatism wasn’t her default disposition by a long-shot. She actually prided herself on her ability to put a positive spin on many a difficult situation—both those of her own making and those of her sisters.

It also wasn’t in her nature to monopolize Jane’s limited free time with mere bitching or whining. That’s what she went to Charlotte for.

This latest rejection had been exasperating, but also quite inspiring and it was that inspiration she was determined to pursue now.

“I must ask then,” Jane stated, interrupting her sister’s developing thoughts, “if you’re just going to argue every point I make, why are we even having this conversation? Is this a pep talk or a venting session?”

“Actually,” Lizzie brightened, renewed determination settling over her mind as she glanced down at the overstuffed satchel she had dumped near her feet upon arrival, “this is kind of a scheming thing.”

Jane laughed, but with skepticism coloring her tone. “Well, dear Lizzie, you certainly have my attention then.”


	2. Chapter 2

As the oldest of five, Jane Bennet was quite comfortable censoring the silly whims of her younger siblings.

Lydia and Kitty, with their penchant for social foolery, required the most constant intervention; while poor Mary, determined as ever in showcasing her fledgling talents (audience enthusiasm be damned!), required her fair share of redirection too.

Even Lizzie, the decidedly more clever and poised of the sisterly bunch, was not immune to the occasional, ill-advised impulse.

 _A family trait_ , their father teasingly termed this shared silliness. 

Though for Jane, specifically, one not inherited.

While not without her own weaknesses, Jane simply lacked the uninhibited spirit her sisters so commonly indulged.

And so, as things are wont to do, it often fell upon her as the eldest—sweet, soft-spoken and sensible Jane—to thus recognize and corral her siblings from their own asinine chaos.

Sat across from Lizzie now, watching as she repeatedly swirled the contents of her coffee cup, Jane couldn’t help but feel equal parts curious and ill-equipped to stymie the plan her dearest sister had so concisely outlined for her moments before.

“You want,” Jane finally spoke, glancing down at the sloppy stack of manuscripts that Lizzie had procured from her satchel and plopped upon their table, “to give your book away?”

Lizzie leaned forward, eyes bright with excitement. “Not give away exactly. _Hide_. I want to hide copies of my manuscript all throughout Meryton for people to find and read.”

“I-,” Jane paused, scrunching her face in puzzlement. “But why?”

“Unfurrow your brow before you prematurely wrinkle it,” Lizzie teased.

Jane rolled her eyes at the instruction, but settled her features into a calmer expression as requested.

“As you likely recall,” Lizzie started, “I sent my manuscript to two dozen publishers for consideration and have now received their deafening, collective rejection.”

“No,” Jane shook her head in disagreement. “No, Lizzie, you are much too harsh towards yourself.”

“I simply acknowledge the very real denial laid upon me, Jane. My efforts to get published in the traditional way have been a resounding failure, so I am thinking creatively in terms of future steps.”

“But what of the twenty-fourth?” Jane sat up straighter. “You said very clearly when you arrived that this was rejection number twenty-three.”

Jane yanked the crumpled letter out from where it now rested under the pile of manuscripts. “It seems premature to assign defeat, Lizzie,” she declared. “These twenty-three rejections mean nothing if the twenty-fourth proves successful.”

“The twenty-fourth,” Lizzie sighed, “was the longest shot of all—Pemberley Press. I barely worked up the nerve to submit to them. I was so surprised they would even accept non-represented works, but apparently they have a division very dedicated to new talent. But Jane, I hardly anticipate hearing back from them at all given the size of company.”

“But you don’t know that. Not for certain.”

“If my manuscript couldn’t get a secondary glance from any of the other twenty-three, I think it rational to assume nothing is to come from the twenty-fourth,” Lizzie shrugged.

“Fine. But why such an… unusual approach? Why hide them?”

“Because I still believe in the quality of the book I produced,” Lizzie said. She picked up a single copy of the manuscript and gazed upon it fondly. “I still believe this is something special. Not perfect, I am not so deluded, but still special. So, why wait any longer to get it into the hands of potential readers?”

“I don’t see how hiding manuscripts around Meryton helps accomplish that,” Jane reasonably stated. She similarly picked up one of the manuscripts from the table and began flipping through the pages, smiling as she glimpsed her own name a few sheets in. “Why not send these remaining copies to more publishers?”

“I considered it, but the twenty-four I reached out to were so deliberate, you know.”

Lizzie had diligently researched potential publishers, not simply compiling a list of firm names, but carefully researching their rosters and publications. She narrowed down her search to two dozen firms that seemed particularly suited to her literary style and who also were accepting of submissions from un-represented authors.

“Perhaps you should refocus on finding an agent then,” Jane suggested. “I am certain having a representative would be the opening you need.”

“I don’t _need_ anyone,” Lizzie asserted. “Well, I probably do. But I like this plan, ridiculous as it is.”

“Why wouldn’t you just self-publish online?” Jane gently countered again.

Lizzie narrowed her eyes and took an aggressive sip from her cup, a single eyebrow defiantly raised.

“I’m sorry, I don’t mean to be such a contrarian," Jane continued with a small shrug, "but remember how our dear aunt told us all about her neighbor who was self-publishing a series of historic romance novels? She developed a devoted following and made quite the side-business of it.” 

“No,” Lizzie responded simply. “That isn’t what I want. I want something tangible for people to hold. I want to know my story is out there in a physical form. And I don’t care if it makes me old-fashioned, I shall never tolerate the e-reader approach to literature.”

Jane, quite familiar with this particular prejudice of Lizzie’s, did not push back on the sentiment. A contented silence descended upon their table as each sister perused the manuscript before them.

“I realize this isn’t sensible,” Lizzie quietly offered a few moments later. “And I appreciate your attempts at rationality. But after weeks of feeling increasingly defeated, something this silly just feels so inexplicably right. To have some unsuspecting person stumble upon my book. To imagine them reading it. To imagine them _enjoying_ it.”

"It's a charming thought," Jane agreed. She watched her sister closely, still torn between amusement and concern for Lizzie's current fixation. “I don’t understand it fully, but I suppose no real harm can come from this endeavor.”

Lizzie smiled widely in reply. "Exactly."

“How many will you hide then?” Jane queried.

“The clerk at the copy center royally screwed up my print order,” Lizzie laughed, waving at the pile of manuscripts between them. “He accidentally doubled the number of requested copies, so I have all these additional ones free of cost. And so, I plan to hide all twenty-four, errr…well, twenty-three of them. One for each rejection note.”

“Each rejection note?” Jane echoed.

Lizzie’s face beamed once again. “Ah yes, that’s the part I haven’t mentioned yet. I’m planning to include them.”

“The rejection notes?” Jane was dumbfounded.

“Yep.”

“And what will that accomplish?”

“Well, assuming my future readers like the book, I’m hoping to gain allies.”

“Allies for what?” Jane laughed incredulously.

“The next phase of my plan, of course: vindication.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I have outlined the rest of the story and suspect it will reach 30 chapters in total. I am hoping to post at least one chapter per week, moving forward. :)


End file.
